


When John Watson Just Should Have Been Silent

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Sex, John is Not Amused, Loving Sherlock Is A Losing Game, M/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: John has realised he loves Sherlock and he knows they belong together. When he confronts Sherlock, things turn out a bit differently than he thought.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes, One sided John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 90





	When John Watson Just Should Have Been Silent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlytherinsDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinsDragon/gifts).



> Just a mean little drabble, sparked by a conversation with SlytherinsDragon :)
> 
> I listened to the song "Arcade" while writing this, the most beautiful song I have heard this year, the winner song of the Eurovision Song Contest, sung by an adorable young man with a wonderful voice of a great range. The text fits this story perfectly :) This was his winner's performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YiIjuLRyinM

John Watson felt his pulse speed up at the unmistakable noise of the front door opening. Sherlock was there. It was time.

And it really _was_ about time. Since he had moved in with Sherlock all those years ago, everybody had expected them to become a couple – Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, Angelo, Irene, the tabloid press, his own mother and sister…

And he, John, had messed it up. Fighting being attracted to Sherlock, he had done anything to appear straight. Mostly to himself. He had never been a homophobe but concerning himself? He had not seen this happening, ever. He had never been interested in any men before meeting Sherlock. He had been quite the ladies’ man, always. And after moving into Baker Street, he had been chasing women all the time and eventually, he had thought he had found his true love in Mary.

And yet – it had been there, instantly. Being drawn to this highly unique man in ways he had never wanted to acknowledge had been the real reason for moving in with him after this startling first meeting. John _was_ an adrenaline junkie; he had to admit it. But it wasn’t even half the truth. He was in love with Sherlock and he had probably been right from the start.

So much had happened since then. He had grieved for Sherlock when he had ‘died’. Mary had been his comforter. But then she had almost killed Sherlock, and now John was willing to admit that his reluctance at forgiving her when Sherlock had long done it had been the sign he shouldn’t have overlooked. He had been ready then – forgetting Mary and choosing Sherlock. There had been the unborn child – his beloved Rosie. But there had also been his fear of being gay after all. Or bi. Sherlocksexual. Whatever. In any way he had made the wrong choice. And he had, deep inside, known it, and this had in the end led to the violence he had unleashed at Sherlock.

He didn’t know the man who had done this. This couldn’t have been him. Of course he knew it had been him but… After the months that had passed since then, it had only become more inexplicable to him how he could have lost control to such an extent, viciously hurting the man he loved for something that had not even mainly been his fault, almost causing his death at Culverton Smith's hands in the go. Mary had chosen to die so Sherlock could live. Because she had known? That he, John, was meant to be with him, not her?

They had watched the videos Mary had sent, however she had been able to do it. What if this part about ‘I know what you two could become’ had been meant totally differently from what they had thought? Wasn't it much more probable that Mary had seen what he had missed, and not meant they could become the junkie who in the end lost his life to his addictions, and the man who missed the war and might succumb to his dark tendencies for good but that they were meant to be together? To save each other? Mary had been very smart. Probably even smarter than Sherlock. In any way now John was sure that’s how it should be – he and his best friend were destined to be lovers, and it would be great.

John listened to Sherlock entering the flat after a short chat with Mrs Hudson in the hallway. Their flat again. John had moved back in with Rosie when the flat had been habitable again. He was back home. They were good again. Sherlock had forgiven him. Had held him. And he wasn't really in contact with Irene Adler anymore; he had admitted he had only said this to make him feel better about nearly cheating on Mary with who he knew now was Sherlock's insane sister. John had known Sherlock was gay; it had been stupid to believe he still bothered with The Woman in the first place. She had been an interesting puzzle, nothing more.

Sherlock was not into women, quite literally. But… How was he going to react to what John was about to tell him? Well, he would sure as hell find out very soon… But there was no doubt, was it? Probably Sherlock would be all over him in an instant!

*****

“Oh, thanks, John. You even bought biscuits?”

Sherlock seemed to be impressed and smiled at him, and John's heart made a little jump of joy. Sherlock was so handsome… All angular features and that long-limbed body in this slim suit… John had put on his new jumper and he knew he looked pretty damn good, too.

“Yeah. Ginger nuts. Know you like them.”

“I love them!” Sherlock beamed at him.

John beamed back and he knew he could stare into those wonderful blue eyes for eternity. Sherlock in all his male beauty was a sight to behold. More muscular and broad than ever, he still had his boyish good looks with those awesome cheekbones, and this mouth… It cried for being kissed. And John couldn’t wait to do it. Lose himself in their excessive tongue-tangling…

“You can take off your scarf,” he said, smiling. “The heating works again.”

“Oh.” Sherlock gave him a sheepish grin and patted on the blue scarf but made no attempt at removing it. “I still find it a bit chilly in here. What did you do today?”

“Just had my shift in the hospital. Went to the playground with Rosie.” Rosie… Sherlock was so fond of her. He loved her. And he would be a great… second dad for her. His mother would be over the moon… Damn. Even she knew him better than he had known himself for so long…

“Oh, where is my little lady now?”

“Molly took her. She wants to buy some clothes for her.”

“Good. She's certainly got better taste than us.”

“Definitely. She does have in men,” slipped out of John's mouth, and he could see Sherlock's eyes widen.

“Um. I think I should do an experiment now.”

“I thought you're just coming from Bart's?” Apparently another doctor was giving him access to the lab now, too. They had not seen each other in the morning but Sherlock had told him via text where he had gone.

“Um. Yes. But I made an interesting discovery and…” Sherlock attempted to get up but John put his hand on his arm.

“Listen, Sherlock. There is something I need to talk to you about so if you bear with me for a minute?”

Sherlock actually paled. But it couldn’t surprise him! And he loved him; John was absolutely sure. It had to be because of…

“I will never hurt you again!” he blurted. How could Sherlock even think he would get violent against him again when they were together! He would cherish and love him. They would cuddle all the time.

Sherlock seemed to relax and briefly shook his head. “Oh. That's… good to know. Thank you.” He proceeded to get up again.

“Well, that wasn't what I wanted to… Sherlock… I…” He broke off and huffed out a laugh. “You know what I want to say. Deductions, huh?”

Sherlock swallowed visibly. “Well, John, I feel flattered by your interest…”

What a déjà-vu… “But you consider yourself married to your work, yeah,” John finished his friend's and soon-to-be lover's sentence. “You can have both, you know. We are best friends already. Working on cases together quite a lot, huh? We raise Rosie together. So we can as well…”

“No, John. I can't. I'm sorry.” Sherlock showed an expression John wasn't that used to – compassion. And perhaps a hint of… panic?

“Yes, you can,” he said, feeling desperate but determined to make his point. “We will figure it all out together. It's totally new for me, too, but I want you. You're so sexy and hot and…” He got up to kiss Sherlock but Sherlock turned his head so he only caught his now reddened cheek.

No. He hadn't come this far to give up so easily! He would show Sherlock that there was nothing to fear. He would be so gentle with him.

He clutched to Sherlock's shoulder and caught the scarf. It slid down and revealed – a hickey, a few centimetres under his right ear.

Stumbling backwards, John gaped at it. “Oh. Oh god…”

“I'm sorry, John, really, I am…”

His heart shattering to pieces, John shook his head. “No. Don't be. Not your fault. I messed it all up. Too late, huh?”

Sherlock sighed and gestured for him to sit down again. “No. In fact, it has always been too late.”

It took him a moment to get what the detective had said. “You mean…”

“Yes. I've been in a relationship for longer than you’ve known me.”

How was this possible? It wasn't. Sherlock could have never hidden it from him. “You don't have to tell me nice lies again, Sherlock,” he said, shaking his head. “You don't want me, it's fine. It's all fine,” he added in a bitter tone.

Sherlock nodded. “It's true though. I… was so close to telling you many times. When you thought I was a pathetic loner who never gets laid…”

John blushed at this. The sheer image of Sherlock having sex - with somebody else than him… “Why didn’t you? And… Who is it?” Who had taken this awesome man away from him? Who was worth his attention? Nobody was!

“It's… not easy to explain.”

“Well, it is though. It's a man, right?” Sucking at Sherlock's neck like an incubus…

Sherlock seemed a bit relieved he was turning this into an ask-and-answer game. “Yes. Of course it’s a man. I told you girlfriends are not my area.”

“And still you wanted me to believe you're interested in Irene Adler…”

“Well…” Sherlock shrugged. “This whole affair wasn't my proudest hour. He hated it, too. I wasn't sexually attracted to her, let alone in love with her but there was… something odd.”

“I do remember it vividly. She's a witch. Had you under her spell.”

“In a way, probably. Listen, John. Can we please not do this? I’d rather not talk about it. Him.”

“But you said you wanted to tell me long ago?”

“I didn’t do it because he would have been upset. He still would be. And… he's rather… possessive.”

John shook his head. “And? I think you made very clear that you are not going to do anything with me. So why would he bother? What's the big deal?”

Sherlock cleared his throat. “It is. A big deal.”

John's brain finally started to work. In fact it was running amok. Who could it be? Someone he knew, for sure. Someone who had been annoyed by Sherlock's weird involvement with Irene. Someone who couldn’t admit his relationship with Sherlock. Someone who obviously had the power to… It hit him like a brick to the face.

Sherlock didn’t miss it, naturally. He nodded. “Yeah. It's him.”

“But… how… when… why…” John shut his mouth, his mind flooded by images. He had been deceived. From day one. Archenemies, my arse… And God, those images…

“Please understand I'm not prone to telling you any details. But I should probably tell you that it is and always was consensual. I was of age. It was actually my idea.”

It was like waking up in a parallel universe. Sherlock was… fucking… with… his… brother.

His head was suddenly completely empty. They were sitting in silence (apart from Sherlock nibbling at a ginger nut) for minutes before a thought formed itself. “How come he let me get away with… hurting you?”

“Oh, it was hard work, believe me. I think he'd chosen your grave already.”

John almost turned over his mug. ”He… What?”

“You don't know him, John. Not really. You see what he lets you see. He's not that lazy office guy. Not all the time, at least. It took me a lot of time to convince him to not let you disappear. And now that you know about us…”

“I won't tell him.” John shook his head. “Of course it won't work. One look at me and he's figured it out.” He wondered what else Mycroft had figured out. Was this hickey a proof for the not-so reptilian man losing control in the heat of passion? Suddenly, after all those years of not leaving a visible mark? Or had he wanted him to see who Sherlock really belonged to? Well, he would certainly not ask him…

“Yes. I will talk to him. Placate him. Make him understand that you won't give us away.” There was a question in this statement and John hurried to nod.

“Sure. I’ll never tell anyone.” Nobody would believe that anyway. And if they did… In his mind he could see Mrs Hudson’s eyes bulging out of their sockets. Molly would be screaming London down. The Queen would hang herself. No. Definitely not telling anyone.

“Good. He will probably calm down when I lick his hole.”

“Lick… What?!” His hand was clamping around his mug now, close to crushing it. Speaking of not giving away any details…

Sherlock gave him a look between smugness and mockery. “You wanted to have sex with me and don't know how men do actually have sex with each other?”

“Uh…” John made. He had known this. He had done research. Watched some… videos… Imagined all kinds of things – about him and Sherlock, of course. He had seen himself thrusting into this incredibly plush arse. And licking it, yes. But Sherlock doing it for Mycroft… He just couldn’t see this happening. “You're making this all up, don't you?” he asked, desperately. “You don't like your brother. You…”

“Did you get this idea in Sherrinford?”

“No. But… Damn! He never told you about Eurus even though…”

Sherlock nodded, darkly. “Yes. We had a big row because of this. I was very upset.”

“I can imagine… And how did he… placate you?” Sherlock just grinned and John felt like fainting. “Never mind.” He cleared his throat. “Um. Made a total idiot out of myself, right?”

“Of course not. I do feel flattered. And it might be a comfort that you would have never stood a chance. He is my dream man, John. Always was. So tall and those long legs and that giant cock…”

Yeah. He wouldn’t have stood a chance… He could be grateful he was still alive…

“I'm glad I can be open with you now, John,” Sherlock said, smiling happily. “I will stay with him tonight then. I'm sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It would have made things so much easier for all of us.”

John's fingernails bored into his palms by themselves. “Easier, yes.”

“If you think you want to be with a man, why don't you ask out Lestrade?”

“Huh? He's straight!”

“Yes. Like you… And I know he tried to hit on Mycroft long ago.”

John wasn't surprised by anything anymore. “I bet you didn’t like that.”

“No. But Mycroft told him he's married to his work…”

“Of course…” John got up. “Don't worry about me, Sherlock. I'll be fine.” One day he would find someone like him. So smart, beautiful, fascinating, magnetic, wonderful…

Damn… He would die alone and Sherlock would go on fucking with his brother.

It was all fine…

  
  



End file.
